


World Eater

by sweetopheliac



Series: Beyond the Burning Flowers [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Female Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Loosely Follows the events of Skyrim, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strong Female Characters, Team Up, dragon slaying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetopheliac/pseuds/sweetopheliac
Summary: It was suppose to be an easy job. Travel to the conclave, keep the peace and return home. Unfortunately for Kasaanda Adaar things don't work out in her favor. With the destruction of the conclave, she wakes up in a world that isn't her own with a mysterious mark on her hand that leaves an ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach. Yet even this new unknown world is in shambles. With the help of a rising hero, Kasaanda searches for a way back home while offering her aid to heal the land she's now stuck in.Freydis is a mercenary turned legendary hero with a huge ego and a god complex. One minute her head is on a chopping block, then next she's slaying dragons and on the quest to save the world essentially. She'll take the role of hero so long as she can reap the rewards of wealth, fame and power. What she hadn't expected was to have a strange mage tag-along with her.





	1. Chapter 1

Out of all their jobs, this one should have been one of the easiest. Well at least on paper it was. All they had to do was travel to the conclave, keep the peace between the attendants, make sure no trouble arose and then be on their merry way. Now granted having a bunch of mages and templars along with bystanders in one space wasn't the most ideal situation nor was it likely for the talks to be without some conflict, she had been optimistic. Naively optimistic, but still. Why not hope for the best? Hope for the best, prepare for the worst and pray for no bloodshed.

Tension was heavy and whispers lingered in the air while people began entering the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Every so often she'd notice the exchanged glares between some of the mages and templars or snide remarks muttered under bated breaths. But no fights had started.  
  
Everything was smooth sailing. That is until she broke off from the group. Checking the perimeter had been her excuse. Really though curiosity had been her real reason. A look around is what she wanted. Perhaps it was irresponsible. Yet at the same time, she would be sure to straighten out any strifes or problems she came across. As she's wandering down a corridor she most likely has no business being in, a sound of distress catches her attention. When she approaches the scene is when everything goes downhill.  
  
It all becomes a blur. And then the world goes dark.  
  
It's that moment of absolute nothingness that Kasaanda Adaar knew that perhaps this was all just a horrible idea --- that maybe she should have gone back home after their last job. Now there is the high chance she will never return to her family. Never see their faces nor hear her siblings laughter. And for that a mix of guilt and sorrow weigh heavy on her heart.  
  
No use crying over spilled milk. Especially considering that now she is most likely dead. May as well say farewell to it all, make her peace and in die in absolution.  
  
  
Except...  
_she wasn't dead_.  
Not yet.


	2. Chapter 2

The expectation of death was that there was nothing --- that she would be nothing. The splitting headache and burning in her muscles suggests otherwise. And when amber eyes open she realizes that in fact for another day she has dodged death. She may have dodged death yet it feels as though she's just crawled back up from the grave.  
  
The first thing she notices is something green on her left hand. She tries to wipe it off, whatever it is. But then a pulse of pain comes from the mark along with a slight glow. Eventually the pain fades.  
  
Carefully Kasaanda stands up and adjusts her armor (if one could really consider Antaam-saar to be armor). The rub of the red ropes against her skin as she stretches is irritating, yet does not compare to the earlier pulse in her hand. For a moment she stands still, eyes taking in her surroundings. There's trees and other greenery. A few feet away is a river. Her staff lays near the water's edge. Odd. None of her surroundings seem familiar at all. Fingers fidget a moment, pulling leaves from long, snowy locks. For a second she considers that maybe the whole incident with the conclave was just a dream; a very vivid real feeling dream. That doesn't seem right though.  
  
Brows furrow and a frown begins to tug at her lips. If she were being honest with herself her memory of the past few hours was foggy at best. She remembers a commotion and a woman but that's it.

The harder she tried to recall the past events the more her head hurt. Regaining memories aside, her next priority would be finding some sort of civilization. 

Kasaanda moves to where her staff lay and when she goes to pick it up, something on the ground moves. Weapon is snatched up as she jumps back like a startled doe. The creature in question looks like nothing more than an over sized crab; much larger than the norm yet not on the verge of being monstrous in her opinion. She tries to shoo the creature away even as it came closer. There's no use wasting any magic on it, so instead she ends up first try to bat it away with her staff and then settle on just kicking it as hard as she can.

Begrudgingly she starts walking alongside the river, following it's path. Where there's water there should be people...At some point.

* * *

Following the river has been a good idea. A great one even, despite the fact that she ended up straying from her original path; which in turn led her to wandering through a forest.

A few fights with some wolves and bandits later, she found herself in a more open area. The landscape was somewhat rocky with hillsides. The sun had already started to set while stars slowly began to dot the sky. In the distance she could make out the silhouette of a wall and buildings. Relief temporarily set in her heart. She trudges onward with the hope of sleep if nothing more. Darkness has settled when she finally makes it to the gate of the city. The minute the guards set their sights on her they tense, hands ready to reach for their weapons.

"Halt! The city's closed. Be on your way traveler." One of them says.

"You can't be serious!" Kasaanda all but snaps. There's anger building up in her chest. She's exhausted both mentally and physically. On top of that, she still has no clue where in Maker's name she is nor what's happened. The mage takes a deep breath before speaking again. "Look it's been a long day. If you could just please let me-"

But as she takes a step towards them they draw their swords. "Already told you the city is closed. Now leave." The second guard hisses, the volume of his voice louder than his companion's. 

With no further argument Kasaanda turns on her heel and stalks away from the gated hold. Tears threaten to spill from tired eyes. Why were they turning her away? Was it because she's a mage? Did she say something wrong?

_You know why they reacted that way_, her mind says. And it's true. It wasn't that she was hostile or doing anything wrong. It was the simple fact that she was not human. That much was very obvious. Being a mage probably didn't do her any favors either.

Finally she just says fuck it and settles with camping out. Even better she'll just sleep in the stables right outside of the hold she was denied entrance to. No one was around to see her anyways. So she finds an empty stall that's relatively cleaned up, flops down onto the pile of hay and curls up. Staff is kept within reach of her sleeping spot. Tears start to skip down her cheeks as eyes are squeezed shut.

What had she done to deserve this?! All she had wanted was to do her job and go home. Had that been so much to ask for?! It seemed so.

The sweet release of sleep takes a hold of her, dreams replacing memories of the day that has just ended. She dreams of her mother's hug, of warm fires and home cooked meals. She dreams of hunting with her siblings and drinking with her mercenary company. She dreams of everything that isn't here. It doesn't seem to last as long as she would have liked. It's the sound of a booming voice that cuts through dreams to shake her back to reality.

"You know, it's pretty gutsy to sleep in a stranger's stable. Especially after picking fights with city guards. Someone's bound to think you're a horse thief...or a vagrant. So which is it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! It's been a while since I've written something. Recently I've gotten back into the fantasy genre and have vigorously been playing through Dragon Age Inquisition and Skyrim again. I've seen crossovers before of the two games but never quite what I'm looking for. Naturally I decided to try my hand at it. I'm planning two stories. First is of course this one, World Eater, where the (future) Inquisitor ends up in Skyrim/Tamriel. The second story titled Rift Maker, will be a sequel to this and for the most part cover the events of DA:I (hopefully not too much of a spoiler there). I'm considering using these as my NaNoWriMo projects. We'll see.  
Anyways! Enough of my rambling.  
I hope you enjoy the new stories I plan to weave.  
Comments and kudos are very much appreciated!  
Thank you for taking the time to read my work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two heroes finally meet.

Morning comes quicker than she would have like. She still has a few hours left in her rental of the inn room. But why delay the day when she's already opened her eyes. Truthfully it's the slight hangover that's woken her up. That and the hunger that churns her stomach. A long day is a head of her. That’s part of the fun though.

Gear is gathered up and she descends down the stairs to the lower part of the Bannered Mare. People have already found their spots for the day. As her breakfast is wolfed down, Freydis hears murmurs of gossip from the other patrons. Her expectation is that it’s about her --- about the legendary Dragonborn and the deeds she’s accomplished. Instead she hears of some creature that the city guards encountered during the night. Odd. It only slightly bothered her. No matter it’s just a little bit of rabble that will die off as they day goes on.

Oh how wrong she was. Whether it was stocking up on potions at Arcadia’s Cauldron or merely walking the streets, all she heard about was the mysterious beast that had tried to get into Whiterun. Now she was upset. Her ego had effectively been bruised. Just the other day she was, for the most part, center of attention.

When she’s about to storm out of Whiterun, she comes to a halt as a group of city soldiers were gathered at the gate. She’s just within earshot to catch

“It was as tall as a giant with horns!” one spouted, making sloppy hand gestures. “Perhaps it’s a disfigured orc.”

“Maybe it was a daedra,” another sneers. There’s a few grunts of distress and disgust at that notion.

“Whatever it is, I heard it’s still lurking about. Maybe we should hunt it down.”  
“First dragons now demented beasts. Divines help us.”

That was all she needed to hear. Perhaps she’d take it upon herself to search for the monster and take it down. That in turn would ultimately satisfy her curiosity and expand her heroic deeds. At the same time though, that would delay her current venture. If nothing else it was something she could keep in the back of her mind and on her list of things to possibly handle.

With no more patience to waste she exits the hold to begin her next journey. Feet carry her down the steps and out towards Skulvar Sable-Hilt’s stables. One by one she examines the horses. Of course it would be easier to just take the cart to her next destination. And she could sleep on the way. But the ride would be so long, and if she had to ride with other people that ---Oh. Oh now that was something.

She’s come to the final stall and lo-and-behold there’s someone asleep in the hay where a horse should have been. Freydis quickly glances around before moving closer. A single hand rests on the hilt of her broadsword. Even in the slight shadows of the covered building she can distinguish notable features of the woman before her. Skin the color of obsidian paired with long, wispy white locks that resemble spider webs. The most defining feature however, are the horns that adorn the mystery woman’s skull. They’re curved around like those of a rams with the tips dipped in gold with intricate patterns carved into the precious metal.

It dawns on Freydis that maybe, just maybe, this is thing or rather person the city has been a buzz about. Expression hardens and at last she speaks. "You know, it's pretty gutsy to sleep in a stranger's stable. Especially after picking fights with city guards. Someone's bound to think you're a horse thief...or a vagrant. So which is it?"

She watches as amber eyes meet her own gaze while the being slowly sits up.

The first thing Kasaanda sees when waking up is waves of fiery red and the glint of armor in the sunlight. The figure before her is imposing at first sight. That is until Kasaanda stands up to full height; or tries to. She still has to duck slightly so her horns don’t scratch against the roof of the stable. Compared to the woman before her, not only is Adaar taller, but her body is somewhat bulkier.

“I didn’t pick a fight with them! Just argued after they wouldn’t let me into the city.” The mage responds, fists clenched at her side. “And I’m not a horse thief! Where else was I suppose to sleep? I-” Voice had begun to rise and for a moment she had to pause to take a calming breath. “The previous day was rough and I just wanted to sleep. I’m lost, I don’t know what’s going on, there’s a weird mark on my hand and I really just want to go home!”

Freydis silently listens to the larger woman’s ranting and rambling with a mixed expression of boredom and confusion. It almost slips from her tongue how none of that was her problem. Yet for once she’s able to hold back an unfiltered, snide remark. “And you just expected for them to let you in? You, who is so obviously not human. On top of that dragons have been stirring up chaos so everyone’s on edge from that.” she says matter-of-factly. “You best be on your way before someone else gets uncomfortable with your existence. I have to be on my way. Places to be and things to do.” With that she turns on her heel to leave. She doesn’t get very far before she hears the other calling out to her.

“Wait!” Kasaanda cries. It takes less than five steps to catch up to the Nord woman while her hand shoots out to grab her shoulder. She flinches slightly as Freydis whips around, glaring at her. “I know we haven’t gotten off on the right foot but...would you consider taking me along with you?”

That question alone was enough to make Freydis stop in sheer shock. There’s a shake of her head as she processes what has just been asked of her while hands come to rest on armored hips. “Why in Oblivion would I do a damn thing like that?” There’s not stopping the raise of her eyebrows nor the scoffing snort.

Kasaanda’s silent while delicately considering her answer. From the look of the woman she’s obviously a warrior. The way she carried herself was distinctive as well. A bit haughty, sure but there was something else to it, something else that Kasaanda couldn’t quite put her finger on. Not the air of someone born in the upper class but someone that’s worked hard and knew it. “Well...” she mutters as fingers fidget with her staff. “You seem knowledgeable. And dedicated to putting an end to possible trouble. Heroic even.” Amber eyes stay trained on Freydis, gauging every small reaction. What she notices is that her compliments are rewarded with a more relaxed posture though with the Nord still holding her head high. If Kasaanda looked hard enough she could also see the ghost of a smirk starting to tug at the other woman’s lips. “So someone as noble as you surely wouldn’t leave someone behind. Not when that someone could either be a real threat or a resource. And if I am a threat, you’d be the one to take the credit for putting an end to me.” She can’t help but pray that whatever power above would bless her with some sort of good fortune.

And it seems to come true. For seconds later Freydis pretends to let out a huff as if relenting to the bargain is an inconvenience to her. Even if it was her ego held a higher place than that.

“Fine. You can tag alongside me. At least until you get your bearings enough to be on your own way.” Freydis says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But a few rules. Don’t get in my way, don’t slow me down and don’t take what I’ve earned. I’m a legendary hero, not a babysitter nor a saint. You travel with me, you earn your keep.”

Kasaanda can’t help but feel a bit of pride in herself. She smiles as she follows Freydis to where a cart sat parked. They climb in the back, taking their seats across from each other.

“I’m Kasaanda Adaar by the way. Where are we headed to by the way?”

“Riften.” Freydis settles back in her spot, legs stretched out as much as possible. “And I am Freydis. Dragon of the North, Ysmir...better known as the Last Dragonborn.” She watches as her companion's eyes go wide in curiosity which means that’s only added to the possible inquiries she may already get. That in turn is enough to make her internally groan. This was going to be a much longer trip than she anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter! I just want to say that while I am going to follow the main storyline as well as the civil war quest in this story, I am also going to be writing about a various and numerous side quests of Skyrim as well. Not only that but those parts will be mixed in, sort of similar to how with my playthroughs of Skyrim I never seem to follow any of main quests consecutively before doing side quests. Hopefully that makes sense!  
Anyways kudos and comments are very much appreciated!  
And thank you for taking time to read this story! ❤❤❤


	4. Chapter 4

It was awkward sitting across from each other. Neither woman spoke at first. The silence was deafening, and the tension so thick not even the sharpest of blades could cut it. Freydis sat, practically sprawled out in her seat with arms crossed her chest and an expression of scrutiny ever present. Kasaanda on the other hand sat bit more daintily with legs crossed, shoulders straight and overall perfect posture while her gaze was directed anywhere but her traveling companion. Fingers fidget nervously as she chew son her bottom lip.

“So what in Oblivion are you exactly? You’re obviously not human. You are large like some of the orcs. Yet you have ears like an elf and skin the same color as a lot of the Dunmer. Are you even from Tamriel?”

Adaar is startled at both of the sudden questions and the way that they’re asked. Despite that she doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m Qunari. Well Vasoth to be more exact.” the mage states, glancing up. “I mean, I’m still technically a Qunari but it’s a bit more complicated than just...Nevermind.” There’s a pause while she ponders over the name _Tamriel_. Now granted she was never the best with geography, directions or anything like that. But she knows she’s never heard of anywhere called Tamriel. Perhaps Skyrim, and Tamriel in turn, were far north of Thedas or even far south. That could explain such. “I’m a mage mercenary from the Free Marches which, if I recall correctly, is north of Ferelden but between Nevara and Antiva.” She hopes that dropping the names of other lands would help jog something in the other woman’s mind --- a realization of sorts. Anything really. Unfortunately the opposite occurs.

Silently Freydis stares at her as if she’s just grown two new heads. Lips are pursed tightly, nose scrunched up and brows so furrowed they looked like they were about to meld together. “Did you hit your head? You must have. None of the places you’ve named exist. Or have existed to my knowledge.” History had been one of her father’s most lectured subjects when she and her brother were growing up. While a lot of it may have gone in one ear and out the other, she can recall his lessons on the geography of Nirn; specifically the many maps he had seemed to collect of the years of all the regions. The Nord averts her gaze in thought while also ignoring the panic that had now taken hold of her traveling companion.

“That’s impossible!” Kasaanda sputters. Her composure is finally lost. Head is held in her hands in dismay. It’s all too confusing. She doesn’t know what to make of the situation. There’s too many thoughts, too many theories. Too much of everything just flooding her mind: curiosity, worry, confusion. Really she wishes that answer would just fall from the sky or magically appear to her. “I know what I’m talking about! I’m not crazy! I’m a Vashoth mage from the continent of Thedas! I-”

“Akavir.” Freydis states, cutting of the distressed mage. “You will say you are from the land of Akavir if anybody asks. When you were a child you, your family and others were shipwrecked on the shores of Black Marsh. Your parents traveled to Cyrodiil to start a new life. You came to Skyrim in search of mercenary work and to possibly study at the College of Winterhold.”

Kasaanda could only gawk at the story that the warrior has seemingly pulled out of thin air. It sounded plausible, though she had no clue about any of the places mentioned. Perhaps it was on a need to know basis? She supposes though she won’t object to the newly given backstory. There was one thing that still bothered her. “What if there’s another incident?”

“Incident?”

“Yes. You know...” Kasaanda mutters sheepishly. She let’s out a soft sigh while fiddling with a few strands of her hair. “An instance where I’m refused entry into a city. Getting yelled at is one thing but the guards around here seem so...paranoid?”

Freydis doesn’t try to stifle the laugh that leaves her lips. “I would say it’s nothing personal but it is. You see, a large portion of Nords, not all of them mind you but a lot of them, can’t stand anyone that isn’t Nord. Argonians, Khajiit, Orcs but especially the elves. It boils down to a lot of them hold the belief that Skyrim is meant only for the Nords and have this ideal standard of what a **TRUE NORD** should be. They don’t like change or anything that’s different.” What was suppose to be a simple response had turned into an unsolicited rant. There’s a bit of bitter anger tinging her voice as she speaks. “You could be a Nord but if you don’t act the way they believe a Nord should act, you could get ridiculed all the same.”

There’s a pause and Freydis noticed the slight look of worry Kasaanda is giving her. She’s unsure if that frustrates her more or not. No, but she takes it as a sign to calm down and return to the original topic at hand, dismissing and waving off the other woman’s concerns. “In any case, if we get somewhere and they won’t let you in, I’ll say I’ve hired you to travel with me. Or I’ll bribe them. Whatever is going to work. Whenever we go back to Whiterun, since I’m a Thane of that hold that gives me a bit more power and credibility.”

She watches as a small, relieved smile spreads across the mage’s face. It’s takes a lot not to roll her eyes. “Don’t worry about those details. I’ve got that covered.” Freydis huffs, leaning back. "You're perfectly safe with me." Unless she gets into trouble as well. In that case they'd both be fucked.

Kasaanda relaxes in her own spot. As the conversation comes to a close and silence settles upon them again, her gazes wanders to the world around them. The landscape, while a bit bleak, is still gorgeous. Rocky but coupled with lush flora. It’s unlike the sights she’s seen in Thedas. Granted, she should be more focused on finding a way back to said home instead of lollygagging about and gallivanting about on an unrelated excursion. Yet in her heart it felt right --- like this was exactly what she was suppose to be doing. It’s almost as if some divine force had calmed her soul, reassuring her that all was well and right.

* * *

It was a particularly harsh bump in the road that had awoken the dragon born from her unanticipated slumber. She isn’t given much of a chance to really wake up and process the situation before Kasaanda appears, leaning next to her a little more than she’d like.

“Hey! You should wake up! We’re stopping for a little bit.” Kasaanda states rather loudly.

Freydis groans, carefully sitting up. How anyone could be that cheerful is beyond her.

They’ve come to a stop near the edge of a river. The sun has started to set painting the sky in a beautiful gradient of orange, yellow and red. If one looked close enough they could make out the silhouttes of the moons. “I’m going to water and feed the horse. After he’s rested a little we’ll be back on the road. I’ll have you ladies to Riften before dawn.” The driver calls out while leading the horse to the bank of the river.

Now that he mentions it, water did sound awfully nice. Freydis stands, stretches and hops out of the carriage with the mage following close behind. Once at the water’s edge Freydis removes her gloves and kneels down, scooping water to first splash on her face and then to drink.

Kasaanda watches her companion a moment. Her gaze turns directly to the water. She hesitates with her hands hovering above the water. When she finally takes the chance and water slides down her parched throat, she instantly lets out a gasp. Hurriedly she scoops water up and drinks it down.

“Easy there. You’re going to make yourself sick. It’s not going anywhere.” Freydis scolds. In truth the action is reminiscent of when she and her brother would hunt during the summer months. They’d spend the day traversing through the Great Forest. The temperature was always warm during that time. And it never failed by mid-afternoon they were drenched in sweat and hankering for a good swim. They would drop off their catches and baskets full of herbs and run off to the one spot in the woods where they knew of a small pond. Freydis would always jump in first while Azuol would kneel on the water’s edge, gulping down mouthfuls of water as if it were the finest mead in all of Tamriel. She’d dive under the water and wait for him to lean over to either splash him or try and pull him in.

Freydis doesn’t realize she’s gotten lost in a memory filled daze till she feels a particularly hard nudge nearly causing her to topple over.

“Maker, I’m so sorry!” The apology comes quickly once Freydis shoots a glare at the mage. “It’s just...You w-weren’t answering me and that was the first idea I had to get your attention?” Kasaanda tries to offer a smile coupled with a shy shrug.

“What is it that you were saying?”

Kasaanda goes to repeat her question but is interrupted by the carriage driver before she can even speak it. As they’re sitting back down in carriage does she make a third attempt at her inquiry. “I asked you earlier what we were heading to Riften for.”

“I heard rumors of a boy in Windhelm trying to summon the Dark Brotherhood to get revenge on the headmistress of the orphanage in Riften. Apparently she’s a real wicked bitch.” She notices Adaar open her mouth to speak, however; she doesn’t give the other the chance. “The Dark Brotherhood is an assassination organization.” That seems to pacify the other. For the time being at least. “Anyways, turns out it was true. Found the boy doing the ridiculous summoning ritual. He thought I was a member and practically begged me to take his contract. I agreed, so here we are. Better he gets involved with me than any of those lowlifes.”

Freydis had felt a deep empathy and sympathy for the boy, leaving her with feeling obligated to provide help for the sake of it rather than for some ulterior motive. That in itself was an uncommon thing; a luxury spared for so few. Usually all the things she did were done primarily for the reward, be it money, items, fame or power. Providing aid to people was just an extra notch in her belt. She tries her best to ignore the mushy, heartfelt look that crosses her companion's face.

* * *

It’s well into the night when they finally arrive at their destination. Freydis thanks the driver, slipping him a few extra coins out of thanks. With weapons in their grasp they make their way to the front gate.

“Halt!” One of the guards commanded. “You are not allowed to enter the city until you pay the visitor tax.”

“A what?” Kasaanda snaps. “You’re kidding me! What are-”

“What my companion means to say,” Freydis begins, “Is that this is obviously a shake down!” Her voice is raised higher and higher with each word that is grudgingly spoken.

Even under his helm, she can tell guard starts to panic. “Alright, alright. Quiet down. I’ll unlock the gate.” he croaks out. It takes but a few seconds for him to complete the task.

Freydis almost pushes him out of the way, shooting the two a venomous glare while Kasaanda doesn’t even bother looking at either of them. A flurry of muffled laughs followed by a whispered stammer of ‘Shut up!’ is barely heard behind them.

Her body yearns for a bed and her mind screams for a good night’s rest. Yet at the same time Adaar finds herself a bit more awake due to the sheer awe of the new location. Never had she seen a town structured like this. She stands near the rails, excitedly looking down at the water below. She doesn’t get very long to admire their surroundings as Freydis impatiently pulls her along into a nearby inn saying, “We can look around tomorrow. Sleep now.”

The inn feels warm and even cozy. Most of the crowd has gone home. A few drunkards remain. There’s bellows and barks and murmured, though slurred, rants. The dragonborn catches a small piece about the Thieves Guild, and that piques her interest. Might be worth looking into.

As they pay for their rooms and are led to their quarters for the night, neither of them catches onto the stranger that’s been intently watching them since they walked in.

* * *

Morning comes a bit faster than either of them would like. They meet up for breakfast, briefly discussing the plan for the day in between shoveling food into their mouths. All seems calm when they exit the Bee and Barb. That doesn’t last, not by a long shot.

Not even a few feet out of the door does someone wriggle their way in between them, a hand placed on the both of their shoulders. There’s a bit of playful smugness when the stranger softly speaks up. “Good morning, lasses. I’m going to take a guess and say neither of you have ever done an honest days of work, What with all the coin you lovely lasses are carrying eh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've updated this! Sorry for the wait. I'm trying to get back on the ball with it but no promises or guarantees for a consistent uploading schedule. I've also posted the Prologue for the sequel Rift Maker and am contemplating posting the first chapter or two for it.
> 
> I'm also trying to decide how long I want World Eater to be. Mainly what side quests I want to write in. I know I'm going to cover the main plot, the Civil War and the Thieves Guild storyline along with a few other things. But I wouldn't mind hearing what side ventures you all would like to see! So please let me know in the comments what are some that you may want to see included.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it! Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated!!


	5. Chapter 5

The two of them whip around, pulling away from the stranger. Kasaanda’s expression remains more neutral, curious even while Freydis looks downright pissed off.

“How could you possibly know wh-”

“Our financial status is none of your business.” Freydis snaps, interrupting her companion. Hands are placed on her hips though one lingers close to the hilt of a sheathed dagger. She gives him a quick look over. He’s just a small bit taller than her, not so much to cause him to be overbearing but enough to be barely noticeable. His hair was a dark shade of red compared to hers. And unlike most of the people she’s seen so up to this point, he’s dressed in much finer clothes than they. “You been manhandling my coin purse?”

The man lets out a hearty laugh. Even when it quiets down his amused look remains in place. “No, lass, I haven’t been messing with your belongings.” he replies with hands held up in surrender. He glances between the two, giving a shrug. “It’s just all about sizing up your mark. The way they walk, what they’re wearing. It’s all a dead giveaway. As far as wealth goes, wealth is my business. Maybe you’d like a taste?”

The mention of money instantly calms the dragonborn down. Kasaanda makes a mental note of that. It’s rather humorous in a way. Really though she gets it. Being a mercenary for so long rarely had she or her company passed up a chance to earn a bit of coin. Exceptions did exist but were few and far between.

“What did you have in mind exactly?” Kasaanda inquires.

“I’ve got a bit of an errand to perform but I need an extra pair of hands. In this case it seems I’ve got two. And in my line of work extra hands are well paid.” It’s a vague statement to say the least. He must have taken notice to both of them about to open their mouths yet doesn’t allow them the chance to ask questions or berate his murky speech for he quickly gets to the point. “I’m going to cause a distraction by gathering the crowd together and gaining their attention. While I do that, you’re going to steal Madesi’s silver ring from a strong box under his stand.” He gestures towards an Argonian starting to set up a stall in the market center. “Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei’s pocket without him noticing.” He then motions towards a Dunmer man moving towards the stall closest to them. “Simple right?”

“I’m sure we can handle it.”

It surprises Kasaanda how quickly Freydis is willing to take on the task without so much as a second thought. Then again they’ve probably been given all the information that will be volunteered. No reason for asking why’s. There’s the thought that she’ll need to count their coin after receiving it. Shokrakar always made it a habit to remind her and the rest of the mercenary company to never trust humans with numbers.

“Are you even listening?”

The snapping remark brings her back to reality. Kasaanda hadn’t realized she had been spoken to nor did even really think they remembered her being there if she were being honest. She turns her gaze from the market place back to the two humans. “Ten minutes.” she replies.

Both Freydis and the man give her an odd look. Granted Freydis looks more annoyed than anything.

“Ten minutes. That way my friend and I can get an idea of the guards rotation or routine.” Kasaanda shrugs. “And when we’re ready I’ll give you a signal. Something like this.” A loud cough is given as demonstration. “It’s a little more inconspicuous that way rather than speaking to you again to get things started, you know?”

“Aye, that suits me just fine. I’ll be looking for your sign, lass. Good luck.” And leaves the two of them to get prepared.

There’s only the sound of the shopkeepers and few customers bustling about as the two of them move closer into the area. They find a spot off to the side to stand somewhat huddles together. Their eyes roam the area, assessing every detail.

“I’ll pick the locks and slip the ring into the Dunmer’s pocket.” Freydis mumurs.

“That’s good. I don’t know how to pick locks. Plus you’re smaller than me and have less of a chance of fumbling around.” Carefully Kasaanda watches the movements of the guards passing through the square in hopes of putting together some sort of pattern or routine. “Sounds like this isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this.”

There’s a soft snort of a laugh that comes from the shorter woman, and the mage sees out of the corner of her eye the ghost of a smirk tugging at the Dragonborn’s lips. “My brother and I have been known to have sticky fingers since we were kids. In fact we had planned to join the Thieves Guild back in Cyrodiil. Most likely through the Chorrol location. We took on mercenary jobs to gain a bit more experience.”

It’s not the activity that Kasaanda would consider typical sibling bonding. Yet it was as good as any. As for their current job, she feels like she remembers a task similar to this that Valo-Kas took on. It wasn’t something in their usual repertoire however.

“I’ll stand in the back of the crowd but in the general direction of where you’ll be. When I see the guards or anyone else really getting close enough to you to notice what you’re doing I’ll yell something out. Maybe a question or a remark. Something to that effect to further distract everyone.”

Freydis thinks it over and relents with a sigh, stretching. “Fine, fine. Let’s get this over with.” she mutters. “Just don’t fuck up. I don’t feel like paying fines or doing jail time.

With that they both move into position; Freydis in front of Madesi’s stand acting like she’s considering his wares while making small talk and Kasaanda just a few inches behind her, glancing around. When all the guards seemed to be in a favorable position away from them, she started loudly coughing only stopping when Freydis and Madesi turned their attention to her. Her mumbled apology is drowned out by their employer calling out.

“Everyone gather around! Yes, everyone come here. I’ve got something magnificent to show you today!”

Madesi groans and rolls his eyes. “Not again. Brynjolf and his ridiculous cures...” he mutters. Even still he moves to congregate with the others to witness the spectacle. Kasaanda shoots Freydis one last look and follows the Argonian though makes sure to keep to the very back of the crowd.

Freydis is quick to crouch down and move behind the stall. Only when she’s behind the booth does she retrieve a lockpick from a small satchel on her belt. Lithe fingers are quick to work yet delicate as to not break the pick. She’s hidden for the most part. That is unless some was to walk up from the Southern part of the hold. The successful click of the compartment opening is like a high for her. Now all that’s left is the box with the ring in it. This one is just a tad more difficult.

Kasaanda subtly scans the area, noticing a guard to her left coming from the North near the Bee and Barb Inn. One second, two seconds...and then.

“You’re not making any sense! It sounds like bullshit.” she calls out. That earns her a few chuckles and nods of agreement. It also causes the guard on the move to stop and observe the scene for the briefest minute.  
Brynjolf merely chuckles, waving off the Qunari’s heckling. “Perhaps you’re not understanding. What this potion is...”

When he starts his long-winded explanation the guard continues on his intended path. It’s also the same time that Freydis has retrieves the ring and closes up both the strongbox and the stall cabinet. Right before the guard gets to her position she pops back up, a frustrated look on her face while holding a simple golden hop in one of her hands. “Damn it all to Oblivion. These earrings are shit. Keep falling out and getting tangled in my hair. Ugh!” Her acting must be better than she thought or the guard on duty really hadn’t caught a glimpse of her movement amidst the stall, for he barely spares her a second glance and continues on. Once he’s out of range, Freydis scoots down towards Brand-Shei’s booth and sees him sitting on some boxes right beside it. Perfect. Once again she crouches down and sneaks towards the unknowing Dunmer. He’s as still as can be and his pocket is in plain sight. Her breath is held as her hand slowly and steadily reaches out to slip the silver ring into the man’s pocket. Even when the deed is done she does not exhale. She stands up enough for Brynjolf to catch a quick glimpse of her giving him a thumbs up and to make eye contact with her. Quietly she makes her way over to Kasaanda. Not long after the two are reunited does Brynjolf finally wrap things up and the gathering disperses. They wait until everyone’s gone back about their business before speaking to him.

“Well done you two. I knew I picked the right people for the task. As promised here’s your payment. Two-hundred gold. So a hundred each or however you want to split it.” A small red coin purse is held out to them. Kasaanda is quicker, grabbing it before her companion can. Yet only a second after does she take it does she start counting the coins inside. Seeing this, Freydis calms whatever anger was quick to bubble up.

“What happens now?” she asks with a glance back at the two other merchants.

“Now we wait for things to run their course. Won’t be long I suspect.” Brynjolf replies and starts to pack up the mystery bottles he set out earlier. “By the way, I’m sure you lasses have already heard but I’m with the Thieves Guild. Name’s Brynjolf. If you two are interested in making more money, come meet me at the Ragged Flaggon down in the Ratways. The Guild could use some new blood.”

“Can never have enough coin. Sounds like a good opportunity” Freydis laughs. She smiles as Kasaanda hands her the bag with their payment.

“Aye. Well don’t forget what I said, lass. I look forward to seeing you two soon. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to continue.”

The two watch as he walks away with box of bottles tucked safely in his arms.

“That was quite an experience. Can’t say I haven’t done anything like that before. Granted you took care of the complicated part. Maybe I should learn to pick locks...”

Complicated but worth it, both for the coin and the adrenaline rush. As nerve wracking as thievery was at the same time it made her feel alive --- a fact Freydis would happily point out. “Yes well now we have other things to take care of. First we deal with Grelod the Kind and then...” she gives the mage a quick look over, face scrunching up in disapproval. “And then we see about getting you a new set of armor.”

Kasaanda frowns at the comment. Amber eyes look down at the knot work and brightly colored fabric of her Antaam Saar. “What’s wrong with my armor?” It’s a little off-putting to a number of people back home, sure. But for what it was worth it was comfy. Easy to put on and move around in. And it made her look good. Not that she would admit that.

“What isn’t wrong with it? For one thing you stick out like a sore thumb. Most importantly you’ll freeze your tits off once we start traveling around the Northern parts of Skyrim like Windhelm and Winterhold. And currently you’re much more useful to me alive than dead. Just don’t let that go to your head.” Not to mention she’s started to grow attached to the mage, even just a little bit. Then again it’s the longest she’s traveled with someone that wasn’t her brother. If she wasn’t working with him, she was working alone. It was easier that way. Less drama, less splitting the rewards and overall just easier to work alone. It also meant the less of a chance of getting attached to people that would either abandon her, betray her or just...die. Love and friendship were _weaknesses_ that had the great possibility of ending in sorrow. And that was something she didn’t need nor want. “Anyways, enough chit-chat. There’s things to be done. Let’s go.” With that she turns on her heel and starts walking towards the part of Riften they had yet to explore. Kasaanda follows, catching up enough to walk side by side with the Dragonborn. Freydis doesn’t miss to small smile on the Qunari’s face yet acts like she isn’t even paying attention to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down! And a longer one at that. I've got the next few chapters sort of outlined out so hopefully I can get those out a bit faster. Within those chapters we're really gonna start getting into the more meaty part of the story. I'm still working on figuring out which side quests to possibly include.  
Anyways thank you for continuing to read this story! I hope you enjoy it!  
Comments & kudos are very much appreciated! :)


	6. Chapter 6

It’s a rather awkward situation. Kasaanda stands still as stone as both the blacksmith, Balimund, and his apprentice, Asbjorn, look over her. Now whether they were examining her current armor or her is a mystery.

“It needs to be light armor. My friend here has to have the ability to move quick as lightning and be almost as flexible as water.” Freydis explains. Really with her tone it comes off as a more of a demand. “She’ll also need a satchel or bag of some sort..make that two bags along with a belt with slots or something to hold potion bottles or a way to attach smaller purses.”

“And my grimoire! I need a spot on the belt to put it.”

Freydis raises a brow, glancing to the tome that rested against Kasaanda’s hip. “Ah. Yes. That too. The most important things are mobility and that it’ll keep her warm, even if she’s not completely covered up.”

Balimund makes a hum of understanding yet remains silent even after Freydis has finished speaking. Arms are crossed as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. “You realize you’re asking for a completely custom order, right? The only thing I might not have to craft is pauldrons. I have some of those that would fit just fine.” He says finally. “I can make everything else out of leather and line it all in thick fur. It’ll cost you a fair bit of coin. I don’t even think I’ve got any boots or bracers already made that would fit your friend so I’ll have to completely make everything.”

“That is not a concern.” Freydis responds. “We’ll pay whatever price is required.”  
  
Kasaanda frowns at that and a pit of guilt settles within her stomach. “It doesn’t need to have fur if it’s going to cost more...”

Freydis shoots her a mild glare. “But it needs to be. For warmth and comfort. I won’t be traveling across Skyrim listening to you complain about chaffing or being cold or anything else.”

The Qunari opens her mouth to object, or rather, ask what she means. No question comes out as the cogs in her mind begin to turn. Boots nor belts would cause such a thing usually. Bracers might. But that only left - Oh. Almost instinctively she looks down at her chest and grimaces. Right. How could she forget. In fact she remembers Meraad having the same issue once with a beautiful leather breastplate made of fish scales she had bought. After a day full of Meraad complaining Shokrakar had basically said _‘I told you so. Either suck it up and make it work or don’t wear it.’_ Needless to say Meraad didn’t wear it, or any top piece, until she got a hold of some fabric to pair with the leather.

“Okay. Point taken. Well then it’s whatever you think would be best.”

Freydis instantly perks up, grinning from ear to ear like a cat that caught the canary. Her attention turns back to Balimund. “Then it’s settled. A set of fur-lined leather armor with all the things we talked about. With the top just keep in mind my friend can’t slip anything over her head. Because...well you know...” She makes a gesture towards Kasaanda's horns. Just when it seems like she’s done, she snaps her fingers which catches everyone’s attention. “Dagger! We’ll need to get you a dagger as well. Unless you’re better with a bow, short sword or mace?”

“No, no. Dagger’s probably the best option. I never learned sword fighting or archery.” Kasaanda admits sheepishly. Most mages tended to stick with just magic. Granted most mage staves had a blade at the end for what she had always assumed was for close range attacking should an enemy get within an uncomfortable proximity. at least thats what she had always used hers for. Then again her mother had also briefly taught her the basics techniques of fighting with a dagger or knife.

There’s the briefest look of judgment on Freydis’ face. It doesn’t last long as she shrugs off her companion’s statement. “No worries. We may remedy that in the future.”

The smithy nods as he takes note of all that they’ve asked for. “Well if there’s nothing else, I’ll write down the order and take the measurements.” When neither woman makes anymore interjections or speaks further, he turns to his apprentice. “Go inside and get the measuring tools along with some paper and ink.” The young man does as he’s told and not even a minute after he returns do the two get to work. The process took just barely under an hour. Balimund would take the measurements, call them out and double check his work. With that done he then took down the list of specific requests that were made for the set. The whole ordeal is familiar. Kasaanda remembers her father doing the same when he would get armor commissions. It makes her homesick not just to be back in Thedas back in a time when everything was better.

“Well with everything considered, price is going to be around fifteen-hundred gold. That includes your armor set, dagger, and the bags. Shouldn’t take longer than a week.”

Freydis appears unbothered by the price tag of everything. “Fine. I’ll give you half now and the rest when we come to pick everything up.” With patience and care she counts out the coin, handing it off to the smith. He counts it himself and makes a note of it on the same sheet of parchment as their order.

“A pleasure doing business with you. Like I said, check back in a few days.” Balimund says as he moves towards the door of his shop.

“Of course. By the way, where would Honorhall Orphanage be?”

“Next building over on the dryside. It’s not far from the South gate.” he points in direction of which he spoke of.

They thank him and move out. Kasaanda can’t help but feel a little bit worry nag at her. It’s a simple task. Get rid of the headmistress in charge of the orphanage. But she’s learned simple tasks are not always as simple as they seem. However she can’t help but hold onto some shred of hope that things would go smoothly.

* * *

To no one’s surprise things did not go smoothly at the orphanage. Then again they hadn't really had a plan to begin with. When they had walked into the building they had caught the tail-end of what seemed to be a lecture to the children about how none of them would be adopted, no one would love them and they would never amount to anything. Kasaanda was appalled at the sight, stunned into silence. Freydis on the other hand was downright angry. Kasaanda had picked up on the fact that the shorter woman had a temper, though still unsure of what all set it off. This was, very understandably, one of the things.

The old bat had snapped something at the two of them but neither had really the mind to listen. Kasaanda has no time to pull Freydis aside to ask what they were going to do. No, the redhead merely tells her to watch the children as she followed the hag into her office. The door is shut, leaving her standing among the children. The young woman working there stutters out how they really should just leave. The kids however stare at the mage in wonder. Before she knows it they’re asking all sorts of questions, including asking to touch her horns. So she indulges their inquiries and forgets what they’re really there to do. It surprises her when Freydis stomps out of the office, grabs her by the forearm and practically drags her out of the establishment.

While they sit and eat their lunch back at the Bee and Barb, neither speaks of what just happened. In truth Kasaanda wouldn’t know what to say, if anything at all. Not only that, but she’s not quite sure how she feels about it. The woman obviously deserved it, and in the long run it’s what’s best for the children both in there currently and those that would find their way there in the future. What’s done is done no matter. She doesn’t have long to contemplate it all.

Freydis loudly sets down her tankard and speaks up. “We’re going down into the ratways to the join the Thieves Guild.” It’s said without room for debate or even thought.

Kasaanda’s brows knit as she watches her companion stand up, observing the hardened expression on her face. “We are? Why is that?” she asks slowly, setting down her utensils.

“Because we need money before we head out to Windhelm and beyond. We get our feet in the door with the Guild and we can get jobs to earn a bit of gold.”

“I’m all for earning money but I’m not too keen on joining the Guild. Not that there’s anything wrong if you want to! It’s just...I’m not a rogue. I mean, I can do mercenary work but...” She braces herself for whatever harsh reply she’d get from the other woman. To her surprise, Freydis just waves it off.

“That is fine. So long as you pull your weight somehow. I’m sure there will be jobs you can help me with then.”

The conversation ends at that. Kasaanda follows Freydis out of the inn and down the steps that led to the canal area. The entrance to the Ratway is not inviting at all. Then again why should it be? The name obviously implies it’s not going to be some pleasant tea party. It’s a dark, dank maze of a sewer system.

Freydis is unbothered by it. She’s not a fan of crawling through sewer ways but at this point she’s been through worse. The random stowaways are no match for either of them. It’s humorous however when a pair of skeevers crawl out from the shadows and give the mage a fright. There’s no hiding her snorts of laughter as Kasaanda lets out a loud, blood curdling scream all while smacking them back with her staff and setting the vermin ablaze.

A few more twists and turns and through another door finally brings them to their destination: The Ragged Flagon. Or at least they presume it to be. The area is large and open with water in the center of it all. Voices are carried throughout the area along with jovial laughs. As they draw closer they can see what indeed looks like to be a very small tavern area. No more than three tables are setup. Chairs are scattered about; some are with the tables, a few are pulled up to the bar. Some of said bar chairs were already occupied. They only recognize what they assume to be Brynjolf sitting leisurely at a table with another man.

"I have a good feeling about 'em, Delvin. " he says.

The man named Delvin nodded along. "Sure. If that's what you say. I still think there's some sorta curse." he replies. He glances up at Brynjolf to the two out place and approaching figures. "That them? An interesting lot that's for sure."

Brynjolf turns to look, and as he spots them a grin breaks out across his face. "Well look who it is. What perfect timing! Couldn't resist the call of coin, could you lasses?" he laughs.

"Can never have enough coin. And we're in need of it. Besides, I've always been interested in joining one of the branches of the Guild. May as well take the opportunity now." Freydis is offers a nonchalant shrug coupled with a charming grin.

"Is that so? And what about you, lass? " Brynjolf turns his gaze upwards to the mage.

Kasaanda straightens her posture, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Oh! Uh...I'm all for taking jobs. I don't think I'd join though. I'm case you haven't noticed I'm not exactly subtle...or built for sneaking." She gestures to herself. Coordination in battle was one thing. But deft hands and skulking through shadows were not in her repertoire. Slinging fireballs and general mercenary shenanigans were more of her specialty. "I do however possess a number of other useful abilities."

Devin has a rather unimpressed and bored expression on his face while Brynjolf never lets his composure slip.

"Well I'm sure I can work with that. In fact," the redhead leans back in his seat with arms folded across his chest. "I actually have a little something you could do for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a little while! I've been working on and off on this chapter for what feels like forever. I'm glad to finally be publishing it!  
I hope you enjoy it! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated. ❤


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